


Like a prayer for which no words exist (come back, come home)

by Charlie_Bb



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:58:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Bb/pseuds/Charlie_Bb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can feel that cold sense of sadness, like vicious fingers slowly grabbing his heart, and he can’t help it. He can’t even help but murmur a low, almost audible “Come back” to the window and the trees outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a prayer for which no words exist (come back, come home)

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd!   
> I don't really know where this comes from, but still. Just my personal idea of what happens when our stupid Alpha finally comes back.   
> The title doesn't belong to me, as the characters; it's from the poem "You are Jeff" (pt 24), from Richard Siken. Check it out, it's so beautiful it hurts (also, there's a Sterek fanvid on youtube with that poem. Go watch it, it's amazing!)

“Hey there, Sourwolf.”

Stiles gazes at the dark figure approaching him upside down. Or, well, he knows Derek’s not upside down, it’s just –it’s funny, and Derek has a funny face right now.

“Stiles.”

“It’s been a while since you last called my name,” Stiles smiles and settles on the ground, his back aching a bit from the contact with the moist carpet of leaves and grass. “I’m not gonna tell you I missed it, because I obviously didn’t, but-“

“How much did you drink?” Derek asks and Stiles laughs at his – upside-down – face.

“Why?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“No,” Stiles says, “why would you care?”

Derek sighs, Stiles can see him sighing and he’s pretty sure Derek’s rolling his eyes to the night sky too.

“ _Stiles._ ”

And Stiles can feel it, that shade in Derek’s voice. It feels like warning, but Stiles doesn’t care too much. He doesn’t need warning against Derek, it’s been proved that Derek’s never gonna hurt him. He simply couldn’t. So, fuck this shit.

“Can you stop being such a sourwolf?” Stiles asks and his trembling hands finally find the whiskey bottle next to him. “I mean, really, are you just incapable of smiling? Of taking things easy once in a while?”

Derek sighs. Again.

Stiles doesn’t care about that look in Derek’s eyes either. He doesn’t care if his eyes are darker than he remembers, deeper, he just doesn’t care.

“You shouldn’t drink that much,” Derek says, staring at him from above, and Stiles giggles.

“Says who?” he asks, taking another generous sip from the bottle. “Besides, I like drinking and I definitely love whiskey, and I’ll never stop doing things I love just because some _sourwolf_ tells me to. Why don’t you have a drink with me, uh?”

“ _Stiles_.”

And now Derek’s voice is low and calm, and Stiles can almost feel that giggles hidden behind the – obviously fake – constipated line of his mouth. The bastard.

“Whatever,” he says and drinks a bit more. The whiskey is dark and burns his throat like hell, but he likes it. The burning, he can really feel the burning and at least it’s something more than the nothing he’s getting used to. Stiles hates feeling _nothing_ , it’s uncomfortable and unpleasant and yack, no thanks. So, whiskey.

“You think a bottle of whiskey is gonna give you any answers?” Derek asks and fuck, how the hell can he know about all the answers Stiles’ trying to find? He _wasn’t even there_ when Stiles asked himself those questions in the first place. Derek wasn’t there when Stiles started to feel some kind of darkness surrounding his teenage heart, wasn’t there when _something_ slowly began to change and Stiles had no idea what that change was about.

“No, but I think a bottle of whiskey helps me think and so yeah, whiskey in the woods, your argument is invalid.”

Derek sighs – _again_ – and Stiles hates him when he sighs like that, like Stiles is just this hopeless kid who’s never gonna change, never gonna grow up. Derek doesn’t know. Derek ran away months and months before and he should just shut the hell up cause damn, he has no idea what Stiles has been through.

But Derek is a sourwolf, and he’ll probably never stop being one, and Stiles doesn’t expect him to be any different. He even likes it a bit, all the sourness. But still.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Stiles asks when Derek sits right next to him, warm and solid and oddly familiar.

“I didn’t,” Derek replies and Stiles gets back on a sitting position so fast his head hurts a bit.

“You didn’t?” he asks. Incredible. How is it possible that Derek left _for months_ and didn’t even find _anything_? Not even one small simple answer? Stiles looks at him and shakes his head when he says, “Unbelievable.”

“Guess I was looking in the wrong place,” Derek says, and his eyes are far far away, lost in the black sky, lost between the shining stars.

Stiles takes his time to look at him, to _really_ look at him and oh, now he can see there’s something new with Derek. It seems like he’s troubled with God knows what, like something’s changed and he doesn’t know what exactly. Derek looks tired, too, and Stiles thinks that maybe his little road trip with Cora must’ve been worse than he thought. Derek has the expression of somebody who’s gone all the way to hell and back. For the millionth time.

It’s just – Derek doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to suffer that much, to lose that much, to fall so far in the dark without anybody to take him out and to the light.

“What would the right place be then?” Stiles can’t help but ask, it’s not his fault if he’s curious. Well, technically it _is_ his fault, or more specifically it his parents’, because of the DNA, genetics and all that shit. End of the day, Stiles is a damn curious kid and will always be, and when Derek’s involved Stiles feels this weird urge to _know_ , know everything and not only because there could be something dangerous to threaten them all.

“The one place I shouldn’t have left.” Derek gives him a soft smile but the night is so dark Stiles thinks he’s just imagined it. Derek’s eyes shine in the dark when he turns to look at him and Stiles is almost chocking on his own breath, he didn’t know Derek’s eyes could shine so bright.

“So are you saying that, basically, you went on a hell of a trip around the freaking world _for nothing_?” Stiles shakes his head, “unbelievable. Seriously.”

“Sometimes things are clear only in the distance,” Derek whispers to the night sky. “Sometimes you can only see clearly from afar.”

“Because if you’re too close you can’t see the whole picture. You’re missing the greater scheme.”

Stiles still thinks that Derek is a douche, but at least he has a point. He’s spent months away from Beacon Hills, from them, just to go back to where he started.

“So…” Stiles sighs lightly and looks straight into Derek’s eyes. “So you think you’re gonna find what you’re looking for, whatever that is, here in Beacon Hills?”

“I already found it.”

Stiles turns to him completely and the movement makes his body ache a bit, too fast and too unexpected. “You did? What- no, when- no, wait-“

“I found the questions I’ve never been brave enough to ask,” Derek says, giving him a blissed chance to shut the hell up.

“And the answers?”

“I think that’s gonna take some more time,” Derek smiles, _again_ , and Stiles feels his heart skipping a beat because, come on, he might as well admit it now, Derek’s smile is freaking adorable.

 

 

*

*

*

*

 

 

_Stiles hates this pit in his stomach. It’s cold, and dark, and so fucking empty it hurts. It hurts so much. The alarm clock points three in the morning and Stiles hates that clock too, that constant remainder of the time passing by when he’s not able to sleep._

_The house is quiet, his dad is deep asleep and the silence is so heavy Stiles can barely stand it._

_He gets up, there’s no point in lying in bed when sleep is nowhere to be found. He goes by the window and looks out at the silent town._

_It’s dark outside, lamps are all out in that part of the town – probably a cut of power or something, Stiles doesn’t care too much. The night sky is dark and pointed with stars, like a big, black blanket that someone put up there. Stiles likes those shining stars, those little lights in an otherwise dark night._

_The pit is still there when he sits by the window and thoughts are streaming in his restless head._

_He’s experienced that pit before though, he knows it kinda well. It feels like loss, and it tastes like it as well. And that’s stupid, ‘cause his life just started to get better without the alphas and all that supernatural shit. Still, the pit._

_Stiles cannot believe that’s because of – no, he refuses to believe it. It can’t be. It’s just-_

_It’s cold now, without the comforting warmth of his blanket wrapped around him like a second skin. It’s a cold night in Beacon Hills, the air is full with that peculiar scent that winter brings and summer is nothing but a memory now. Soft, distant memory of bright days and golden moments they will all remember with affection._

_It’s so cold now Stiles feels like he’s freezing, like the cold can get inside of him and who knows, maybe it can because he feels colder than he’s ever felt and doesn’t like it at all._

_And the pit, that black hole in his stomach is so cold, and dark, and it scares the hell out of him. Stiles hopes it’ll go away someday, someday soon would be the best but he kind of knows that’s not the case. That stupid_ nothing _is gonna stay there, exactly where it is now, and Stiles feels so powerless, so hopeless. For once, he just doesn’t know what to do. It’s not the first time he doesn’t know what to do_ with himself _, but still._

_A wolf howls in the distance and Stiles sighs._

_He can’t help but think, and doesn’t like those thoughts much, because when he lets them be then his head is full of Derek’s eyes and it hurts._

_It hurts because Derek’s gone now, God knows where and God knows why. He wanted answers, that’s what he said. But c’mon, really? He could’ve stayed. He should’ve stayed. They could’ve helped him._

_But of course Derek is a sourwolf and does what the hell he thinks is right, and usually he’s not right about anything and Stiles would really love to tell him that._

_Stiles realizes he would really love to have him back as well._

_It doesn’t feels right, without Derek’s eyes following him, following them all. It doesn’t feel right, that big empty space that Derek left in all of their lives, it just doesn’t. And even if Derek’s a sourwolf, a constipated alpha, Stiles just wants him back because that’s his place, for God’ sake, Derek just belongs to Beacon Hills, to_ them _._

_Stiles can feel that cold sense of sadness, like vicious fingers slowly grabbing his heart, and he can’t help it. He can’t even help but murmur a low, almost audible “Come back” to the window and the trees outside._

 

*

*

*

*

 

 

“Have you ever thought of this?”

Stiles lays against Derek’s shoulder, warm and reassuring, and his eyes go to the black sky above them. Has he ever thought of this? Maybe, sometimes between a few hundreds and a few millions, maybe just when the dark surrounded him and there was no one else around. Maybe he’s thought of this when a deep, meaningful silence was the loudest noise around.

“Not really, no,” he says and he can feel, before even sensing the movement, he can feel Derek’s laugh and how his body shakes to that rough sound burning at the centre of his chest.

“Liar.”

“Sourwolf.”

Truth is, Stiles has thought about _this_ something like _the whole time_.

_What will happen? Is he ever coming back? Will I just wake up one day and randomly run into him somewhere in town?_

_Does he miss us? Does he miss_ home _?_

_Does he miss_ me _?_

“Have you?” Stiles asks and his eyes are fixed on the small lights that happen to be distant balls of burning gas.

“I have. Many, many times.”

“And?”

Derek turns to him completely and faces him, gently forcing Stiles’ to face him back. His fingers are incredibly gentle, and incredibly warm, and Stiles can feel the exact spots where his skin has been touched, it burns like liquid fire under the surface.

“I’ve never pictured _this_.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t even know what I was looking for until I found it,” Derek murmurs and his expression is so serious Stiles would be scared  if he didn’t know him as well as he does. He knows what Derek looks like when there’s some vicious, murderous peril about to destroy their lives and this, this is not it.

This is a wrinkle at the corner of Derek’s lips, an invisible shadow passing through his eyes.

This is fear, and excitement, and dreams that have not been shattered yet; this is a delicate flame of hope shaped  in the form of a sparkle in his eyes.

“But you,” Derek says and Stiles feels like he could have an heart attack any moment now. “You knew it all along. You’ve always known, and you’ve never told me.”

“You wouldn’t have listened.”

“Maybe I would have.”

“Maybe,” Stiles gives him and cannot help but smile. “But you wouldn’t have understood.”

The feeling of Derek’s fingers running gently through his hair makes Stiles shiver – or it could be Beacon Hills’ cold breeze, everyone knows it’s a bit colder in the earliest hours the precede dawn.

“You’re right. You always are.”

“And it took you so long to realize it?”

Derek giggles. He seriously giggles, and this is probably the first time Stiles hears that – _smooth, soft_ – sound caressing his lips. He’s seen him smiling, from time to time; a funny smile that Derek has tried too hard to hide but failed to, of course, because Derek couldn’t lie, lie for real, even if it was a matter of life or death.

This is new, this comforting yet estranged sound, and Stiles thinks Derek should giggle more because, well, it’s nice.

“I told you it took me a while to find the right questions.”

“But you’re still missing the answers.” Stiles can’t hide that bit of melancholy from his voice. He could try but then again, werewolf. Derek could smell that out of him in less than few seconds.

Truth is, Stiles has all the answers – not Derek’s answers, he just has his own, but still. Stiles has passed the last few months with loud, persistent questions running through his – too tired – mind and it took him a while but yes, he finally managed to silence them with the answers he wouldn’t wanna hear.

He wouldn’t want to know that Derek is to him something more than a stupid alpha he has to collaborate with.

He didn’t want to know that, hey!, when the stupid alpha wouldn’t be around he would’ve missed him so freaking much. He didn’t want to feel that _nothing_ in his guts given by another absence in his stupid life. He didn’t want to think about Derek all the time.

But he did.

He didn’t want to give _this thing_ a name, either. Still, one day he just woke up and there it was, _the name_ , stapled like a huge neon light in the back of his head. He tried to ignore it at first, God, he tried for _weeks_ , but the name was too strong and too loud, like a scream for which no silence exist, and the only thing to do was say it out loud, so it could – _maybe_ – go away.

Thing is, you can try to hide it, to ignore it, to surround yourself with the loudest noises ever but it’s never gonna go away. In fact, chances are it’s gonna get louder and louder and louder until you’ll scream it out of your lungs just to make it stop.

But once you say it, once you _name it_ , that screaming thing inside your head, truth is it’ll never go away.

“You could help me find them.”

That’s a bit lame, but Stiles guesses it’s kinda right at the same time. It took him time to work on his personal Q&A, lots of time and silence and solitude, because it was the only way for him to walk down his Feelings Lane, but Derek is a completely different matter.

Derek has this small problem with feelings, Stiles thinks he’s always had, and after all the shit he’s been through he doesn’t really feel like blaming him. Derek couldn’t face a solitary journey inside _himself_ even if he wanted to – and oh, _he wants to, so badly_ –, he couldn’t face all the burning pain, all of his mistakes now covered in ashes.

“That’s gonna take time,” Stiles whispers and oh, look, there’s a star falling in the sky. Stiles hopes the fall won’t kill it, that it could still land in one piece somewhere else. Falling is scary, he knows it well, and it’s even scarier when you’re falling alone in the dark.

Derek’ silence is scary as well, and who knows, maybe he doesn’t have time, maybe he has some more important things to do than chasing some stupid answers.

Maybe he will leave again soon, maybe Beacon Hills is not enough to keep him anchored.

“I have plenty of that.”

…or maybe Derek came back to finally _stay_. Maybe he won’t run away – _again_ – to some exciting new destination, maybe he’ll be just where he’s supposed to. Right where he’s needed.

Maybe he’s the one who’s  gonna help Stiles throwing that cold darkness out of his chest, out of his life.

“Now, why don’t we get rid of that bottle and get you a coffee instead?”

Stiles laughs. Seriously, Derek’s so emotionally constipated he cannot take serious feels-talk for more than few minutes. No wonder he needs Stiles in his life, he’s a mess on so many different levels Stiles cannot even count them on his fingers.

Derek stands up – _it’s too cold now, too cold_ – and takes the whiskey bottle, looking at it for a  couple of seconds before throwing it away with a crash of glass and pouring whiskey all over some poor tree who has no fault at all but found itself on the trajectory.

Stiles laughs again and takes the hand Derek’s offering. He jumps on his feet (with some difficulties, and if he wasn’t stumbling that much because of the stupid whiskey Derek wouldn’t laugh so much at him, but still) and when the world stops turning all around him he allows himself to give Derek an absorbed look.

He’s changed, he can see that, but maybe a change was just what Derek needed. Maybe it’s for the best, and Stiles really hopes so cause dammit, does he deserve to let go of the past and move forward.

“You know, all that Q&A talk,” Derek says and Stiles spots a grin on his face. “I was wondering if you could help me find an answer to a question that’s kinda eating me alive.”

“What, you mean _now?_ ”

Now that they have more important things to do, now that Derek is finally back and for good and the only thing Stiles wants to do is stare at him and feel his presence, this now?

“I feel like I want to kiss you.”

Ugh. “That’s not a question,” Stiles can’t help but say and yeah, come on, it’s not a question at all. It’s a bit of a punch in the stomach maybe, or at least that’s what it feels like, but still not a question, nope, Derek should learn the difference between-

“What would you do if I kissed you?”

Now _that_ is a question, and a proper one as well. A question Stiles didn’t _obviously_ expect, because you don’t usually _ask_ someone what they would do if you kissed them, but then again it’s Derek, so.

“Why don’t you find out yourself?”

“You should never answer a question with another question, you know that?”

Derek takes a step closer and oh, his eyes _do_ shine. For real. It’s like- memories from his past are still there, hiding behind the green of those incredibly beautiful eyes, but there’s something new, a light that wasn’t there before. It’s bright and warm and _there to stay_ , Stiles will make damn sure of that. There’s only a quiet silence left between them now and Stiles can sense Derek in ways he wouldn’t believe possible; he can feel him like he’s never felt anything or anyone in his whole life, he can feel his body tensing and his heart beating faster and faster. Like his own.

Time itself seems to stop just to give Stiles the opportunity to memorize every single detail, every single shade in Derek’s eyes, every wrinkle at the corner of Derek’s lips, every breath breaking on his own lips.

And when Derek kisses him, it’s just- it’s pure perfection, it’s a feeling growing in Stiles’ chest and warming him up from the inside, it’s like breathing after being under water for too long. It’s all the words that Stiles has never been able to tell him, all the stares he’s given Derek, all the thoughts he’s tried to hide and failed. It’s all the months Derek’s been away, all the days Stiles has counted, every minutes he’s spent waiting for him to come back. To come home.

Stiles holds Derek’s shoulders, holds on him so tight he could almost hurt him if Derek wasn’t, well, a werewolf, but it doesn’t matter now. Derek is back, and here to stay.

“So… did I answer to your question?”

Derek lets out a soft laugh and rests his forehead against Stiles’. “You did. That was just the answer I was hoping to get.”

“And I’m hoping to get more _interesting_ questions. Starting now.”

Stiles kisses him again, deeper, and drags him out of the preserve towards his old jeep.

Oh, yes, lots of questions.

 

 


End file.
